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Piano This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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Random,
discordant
notes filled the air.
They rain down,
sharp pieces of glass
stabbing me
until my blood was on the floor.
Tears were quick to follow.
I would never be as good as Momma.
You came in
then.
Your skirt dragged on the floor,
your bun had come undone.
You smelled like flour,
like midnight,
like ink.
When you played,
the world stopped.
B-flats and F-sharps filled the air,
falling down like feathers,
resting on my shoulders,
giving me wings.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.





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NelleyThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 24, 2013 at 8:25 pm:
your descriptions are enchanting:P I appreciate this poem greatly
 
dr0pz0fjupit3r This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Jun. 28, 2013 at 4:43 pm :
Thanks so much!
 
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